How you comin’ for me when you got nothin’, bruh?

No insurance, no talent, no backup, what’s up?

Tryna throw shade, but you burnin’ in the sun,

No protection, no connections, bruh, you already done

(And he knows ittttttttttt!)

(Hahahahahaha!)

How you talk big when your life’s on decline?

No insurance, bruh, not even online (not even)

Shade throwin’? Nah, you throwin’ pebbles at a king (haha)

Got no coverage, no skills, not a single thing (I mean, nothing)

All you do is talk—blah, blah, blah, blah (blah, blah, blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!)

"Oh, look at my sound, look at my bars"

What sound? Bruh, that sound is wack, (quack, quack)

Like a shopping cart crashin’, no rhythm, just flat (flatline)

You ain’t got no flow, you ain’t got no beat,

Just a fake life posted for the gram on repeat (repeat)

Burned your bridges, now you swimmin’ in regret,

Drowned in your broke vibes, so sad, I’m upset (not really).

I see you barkin’, no bite, just noise,

Zero deductible for that clown-ass voice

(Clown-ass voiceeeeeeeeeeeeee!)

How you throw shade with no policy plan? (How is that a plan?)

No talent, no bread, just dust in your hand

I’m a hurricane, you a pop-up breeze,

Bruh, you’re uninsured, beggin’ on your knees (on your knees)

Try again, man, you ain’t built for the clash,

No coverage, no class, just talkin’ that trash

I meant

(He is that trashhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!)

(Hahahahahaha!)

Yo, you’re uninsured like a car in a ditch,

Every word you spit screams, “I’m a snitch.”

Can’t afford a copay, can’t afford a rhyme,

Your bars so broke, they commit petty crimes.

"Oh, check my prompts, check my vibe, my style!"

Bruh, that’s just noise wrapped in denial.

What vibe? What style? It’s a mess, let’s be real,

Your sound’s like tin cans rollin’ downhill.

Fake life, fake grind, all talk, no weight,

Your whole hustle’s plastic, bruh, it won’t translate.

I see your setup—mic, lights, and gear,

But where’s the skill, bruh? It ain’t here.

Oh, you flexin’ beats? They sound like trash,

Like a shopping cart crashin’ after drinkin’ bad gas.

No rhythm, no heat, just a bunch of bad takes,

Your track's are the reason headphones break.

(Break)

Burnt all your bridges, now you cry for help,

But even your echo don’t reply to yourself.

Tryna diss me? Bruh, sit down, get a clue,

You’re just a wannabe tryna fill some big shoes.

No coverage, no hustle, no dreams intact,

Your whole life's a claim they would never contract.

Bruh, you step to me? Better get Geico first,

‘Cause my flow’s a wreck, and you ‘bout to get burst.

(“No coverageeeeeeeeee!”)

Call it State Farm, nah, they ain’t even your friend,

Progressive wouldn’t save you, this your bitter end.

You roll the dice, bruh, but you can't play,

No talent, no backup, just a bill to pay.

I’m droppin’ policies, lyrical claims on fire,

Meanwhile, you expired, broke and tired.

(“No coverageeeeeeeeee!”)

Call it State Farm, nah, they ain’t even your friend,

Progressive wouldn’t save you, this your bitter end.

You roll the dice, bruh, but you can't play,

No talent, no backup, just a bill to pay.

I’m droppin’ policies, lyrical claims on fire,

Meanwhile, you expired, broke and tired.

(He is that trashhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!)

How you throw shade with no policy plan? (How is that a plan?)

No talent, no bread, just dust in your hand

I’m a hurricane, you a pop-up breeze,

Bruh, you’re uninsured, beggin’ on your knees (on your knees)

Try again, man, you ain’t built for the clash,

No coverage, no class, just talkin’ that trash

I meant

(He is that trashhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!)